


Play Hard and Play Rough

by ShadeDuelist



Series: TrossiDuelist stories [5]
Category: Team Fortress 2
Genre: F/M, M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-07
Updated: 2015-06-07
Packaged: 2018-04-03 08:50:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,201
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4094650
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShadeDuelist/pseuds/ShadeDuelist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>(AU story based on my own TF2 fanfictions 'Sinner's Fire', 'Of Hard Hats & Baseball Bats', 'By the fire light', 'Dessert' and on trossidevil's TF2 fanfiction 'Sore Losers')</p><p>'Chains of Fire' is a heavy metal band that's starting to get famous, and lead singer Gabriel Dantan and lead guitarist Jarrod Dangerfeld enjoy every perk of their newfound fame and fortune.  That includes the chance to sleep with female fans.  But one night, instead of the usual groupies, they find a rave dancer that's more than up for the challenge.</p><p>Six months later, the band gets a request for one of their songs to be remixed by a hardstyle deejay...</p><p>(The continuation of this story, 'Play for Keeps', is available only to who supports me on Patreon, so go check me out there and pledge your support to Shade if you haven't already!)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Play Hard and Play Rough

“Oh, man, that was _excellent_ , hombre! Drinks are on me!”, Jarrod said, raising his fist and heartily wrapping an arm around his friend Gabriel as the two of them and the three other members of ‘Chains of Fire’ made their way back to their hotel. It wasn’t their first round of concerts, far from it - they’d been doing this for about three years so far - but it was the first time they were a headlining act instead of a supporting one, and the resulting nervosity had resulted in a spectacular show that had gone off without a hitch. Now, their high-strung nerves were completely unwinding finally, and the five could look forward to a nice relaxing evening back at the hotel their record company had put them up at. Next to Gabriel, their other guitar player Refial laughed loudly about a joke their drummer, Cameron, had told, while their bass guitarist Dan snorted and shook his head.

“Hey, no partying too hard, guys, we still gotta play another set for the ‘MetalHeads’ radio station tomorrow-”

“Yeah, yeah, relax, Danno…”, Gabriel reacted instantly, rolling his eyes. Dan was not the eldest of the group - Gabriel was still a good five years older than him, though he looked youngest of them all save maybe Refial - but he was the one that talked to the record label that had signed them, and the one that took care of their public relations, making him the ‘father’ of their band. Though that made him the butt of a lot of jokes from the others, mainly Gabriel and Jarrod, who both were notorious pranksters. They’d once wrapped the tour bus of the band they’d all looked up to in their younger years in saran-wrap from the front to the back. And then there was the prank they’d pulled on Refial involving a fake phonecall from his younger sister Iphigenya about a tattoo: the guitarist hadn’t spoken to them for three days. “...We’re all responsible adults-”

“Yeah, _right_ , we are - _you two_ are kids in seriously dolled-up adult bodies.”, Refial remarked, snorting when Gabriel pulled up his sleeves to show off the flame tattoos that started from his wrists and ran all the way up to his chest and his shoulderblades. Across his chest stood the band’s unofficial motto and the title of their first successful song: ‘ _Burn me and I’ll rise again’._ Jarrod, on the other hand, hid his own impressive tattoo of a she-devil playing a burning guitar, spread out across his back, underneath his official band tee, showcasing the artwork from their first album sleeve. Dan and Cameron both had tattoos as well, but a lot more moderate.

“We aim to please… _you_ , Babyface, just need to get yourself some ink too. Seriously, a guitarist without any tattoos... ...Sooo, where’s Ash? Why ain’t he here celebrating our moment de gloire with us?” Ash, their lead technician and the one that took care of their pyrotechnics, was absent from the backstage area - but it wasn’t odd for the man to either be waiting for them at the hotel, allowing the other technicians to pack up their equipment again, or for him to be giving a more personal tour of the backstage area to an eager fan, which invariably ended in the back of the supplies truck. Since he was known to disappear from sight when the show started and had been caught sowing his seeds by hand a couple of times as well, always conspicuously enough when his pyrotechnics kicked off, everyone from the band members and the backstage crew suspected that he had a little bit of a thing for fire going.

“Anyone want to go and shake him loose from whoever is with him? Poor unfortunate girl-”

“Poor unfortunate _Ash,_ anyone that sees his face and still wants to bang that is seriously messed up…”, Dan said with a crooked grin, prompting Refial to sigh dramatically.

“Okay, okay, I drew the danm short straw, I’ll go and get flashed by his naked ass…” Refial stalked off towards the supplies truck, causing Cameron to speak softly.

“...Ya di’n’t have to-”

“No, amigo, we didn’t, but Refial’s the only one that _hasn’t_ yet seen Ash mid-, uh…”

“Mid-business.”, Gabriel finished the thought with a crooked grin, adding a second later: “Besides, it’s _Ash_ we’re talking about here, he doesn’t have anything we don’t. As a matter of fact-” He meant to say something lewd, clearly, but right at that moment, Refial came running back to them looking like he’d seen a ghost.

“Guys, _guys_ , you are never gonna believe who is with Ash right now!”

“Aw, Refi, you didn’t knock him loose from his mujer!”, Jarrod said, wrapping his arm around the other dark-haired guitarist’s shoulders and talking to him as if he were a kid afraid of the dark. “...What’s got your tighty-whities in a bunch, amigo?”

“H-he was with Delia-” Now everyone stood stock-still, looking at one another in utter surprise.

“Delia? As in, _our_ Delia, the lady from the record label that signed us in the first place? ...You’re kiddin’-”

“I swear to the Lord, I swear on Joel’s _head_ , I am _not_ kidding, he had her bent over an amplifier and pleading him to go harder-” The guitar player shuddered and looked like he was going to throw up before Gabriel spoke loudly enough for the others to laugh.

“Aww, Refi, do we need to have ‘The Talk’ with you? ...Sometimes, when a man and a woman love each other _very very much_ -”

“I know how sex works, Dante - put part A into slot B. You sure _you_ didn’t forget how it works, though, all the action _you_ got in the past month or so was _your hand_ and, oh, let’s see, _your other hand_ …” Gabriel grumbled softly when the rest of the guys laughed even _more_ loudly than they had when he was teasing the youngest of their group.

“...yeah, yeah… laugh all ya want, p’tit salaud, where’s that Joel of ya now, huh?”

“Heh, that’s an easy one, _in the hotel_ , Dante… waitin’ for me to come back to him and give him a night to remember... well…” They’d arrived at their motorbikes, which they used to go from their hotel to their concert and back. Refial was the first one to mount his, putting on his helmet and grinning cheekily at the others. “... _see ya tomorrow_ , Dante, Jay-Day… have fun jerking off…” He flicked down his visor and then revved his bike engine before tearing off, causing Dan and Cameron to chuckle at Gabriel and Jarrod’s stunned faces even as they, too, put on their helmets and drove off.

“Can you _believe them?!_ ”, Gabriel bristled, causing Jarrod to pat him consolingly on the shoulder.

“The guys are just… the guys, cabrón. Besides, Refi tellin’ us to have fun jerking off… that’s just them not knowing what to make of you and me doing all kinds of loco shit together! Just let ‘em laugh, hombre - _we_ ’ll just go to the hotel and entertain ourselves! I saw the bar has tequila, and there’s bound to be a couple of frustrated chicas around-”

“We’re at an artists-only hotel, mon cher, there’s no frustrated d’moiselles around there…”, Gabriel whined, only to get answered by Jarrod who now wore a sage smile.

“Oh, come on, Gabe, this isn’t our first rodeo, hombre, you _know_ there’s girls that’d do anything to get up close to the bands. Up close and _personal_ no less… Heh, and they’ll be left all unsatisfied now that Delia’s got Ash occupied.”

“‘Occupied’ - tell ya what…”, Gabriel said as he put on his heavy protective jacket while Jarrod simply put on his helmet, visor still up to be able to hear him, “...Delia better not bang him and then break his heart.”

“Is this you worryin’ about a friend?”, Jarrod said, rolling his eyes when Gabriel shrugged. “Sure, act like you don’t care, mi amigo… Now, let’s head over to the hotel - Ash is a big boy, he can take care of himself. ...And _you and me_ better find us someone to take care of _us_ , no?”, he said, winking at his friend, who slowly started grinning back at him.

“Heh, yeah, that sounds like a plan! Tequila and some _fiiiiine_ ladies!”

 

The hotel where they stayed was smack-dab in the middle of town. The exterior looked seedy, but inside was an oasis of luxury and, more importantly, privacy. With the Mayhem Fest taking place outside of town, very few of the concert-goers actually went into the city proper, and the few that did would be fortunate to catch a glimpse of the band members. Gabriel and Jarrod drove right into their band’s single parking spot in the underground garage, heading up to the main floor and hitting the bar. The others weren’t there: Refial would be enjoying the company of Joel, the two knew, and Dan and Cameron were probably watching television or preparing for the next day’s showcase.

“...Oh man, I thought you said there’d be at least a couple of fans that’d be hangin’ around…”, Gabriel muttered miserably after half an hour, downing his glass of tequila and watching Jarrod do the same. “At this rate, all either of us is gonna do is drop unconscious on the damn floor. I want some _action_ , man!”

“Don’t we all…”, Jarrod said, sighing and then rapidly blinking. “...H-hey, uh… wow, is it me or did someone just pour neon over everything?”

“What? Man, you tripping acid or something, the hell you talking about?”, Gabriel reacted, looking up to see what his friend meant. Three women, all three of them dressed scantily in vibrant green, shocking pink and electric orange, were talking in the hallway. Wisps of the conversation drifted their way as the two men sat and stared in utter confusion.

“...tell you, they… postponed it…”

“...can’t just… fucking hard…! If I… oh, he’ll wish… stuff his bollocks down his arse…!”

“Yeah… sorry, love… want to go and… Maybe they’ll…”

“No, no, that’s okay… just power down… all the shredders here… relax… good luck!”

“You too - they… your bit, so see you later!” The two women in orange and pink kissed the one in green’s cheeks, one on each side, and then waved as they skipped off after a man in easy jeans and a white designer shirt, leaving the lone girl to sigh and head to the bar.

“...Tell you what, she’s not dressed for a metal concert, she’s dressed for a strip club. ...Oh, I wouldn’t mind getting a lap dance from _her_...”, Jarrod said, grinning and trying to drink in the lone woman’s form, something Gabriel could fully comprehend. She wore a barely-there skirt of some semi-transparent light green fabric over what could only be classified as neon green underwear and fishnet stockings. She had on thigh-high neon green boots as well, with heels high enough to make her hips swish with every step she took. Gabriel could feel his fingertips itch to run over the woman’s cream-colored skin, or get her neon green lips wrapped around his length while he gripped that shiny brown hair… Suddenly, unbidden but not unwelcome, the thought hit him.

“‘Course - she’s here for that other thing, the, uh… the raver thing… festival… kinda shit…” He scowled at the empty shot glass, as if the tequila was all to blame for his sudden lapse of eloquence, and Jarrod grinned.

“‘Course, the… what the hell was it called again?”

“‘Daybreak-to-Moonlight.”, Gabriel conjured from the recesses of his memory, snorting when Jarrod licked his lips and looked the raver over hungrily.

“Mmm, she can break my day any day… ai, así caliente…” Suddenly, he paled - and then footsteps approached them, and Gabriel turned to look right at the navel of the girl, who had walked up to them.

“Hello, I was just wondering if I could join you two - you know, have a drink, have a talk…”

“Well, sure, fine by me…”, Gabriel said, nudging Jarrod gently to prompt him to agree with him - and then nudging him a little harder, causing the guitar player to yelp and glare at him before turning to the woman.

“Sí, no problem.” He scooted aside to allow the woman to sit down, which she did with a grateful look.

“Ahh, thanks… oh, I am just _so frustrated_ … at the last moment, the festival director decides to change up the god-damned schedule, says it’ll be _less of a hassle_ to save my act for last - I mean, _come on_ , it’s not as if they’re going to tear down the stage when I start dancing!”

“Ah, so you’re a dancer, huh?”, Gabriel asked, and the woman shrugged.

“Performer, dancer… basically I go out there and I _own_ the crowd.”

“Sounds a lot like what me and Gabe here do, amiga…”, Jarrod said, to which the mystery girl snorted.

“Well, I doubt you go about it by shaking your arse. Though, of course, it’s a lovely arse. I’ll bet you get laid nightly looking this good.”

“I wish. But outta the two of us, Gabriel’s the more good-lookin’-”

“Heh, thanks, mon connard-”, Gabriel reacted, falling silent instantly, as did Jarrod for that matter, when the woman traced a fingertip over his fire tattoo on his right upper arm and Jarrod’s bare and untattooed skin on his left arm.

“So tell me, boys, is _tequila_ the only thing you want to have the pleasure of tasting, or can I burn off some frustration with the two of you?”

“The two-”, Jarrod intended to start dumbly, but Gabriel was sick and tired of always flirting with hopeless fans and thought the prospect of a few nice hours with the rave dancer would make his day even better, so he cut off his friend and nodded.

“Your room or ours?”

“Let’s say mine. Yours probably hasn’t got a lot of space… or a double bed, for that matter…”, she admitted, and Gabriel groaned. Saying that it did would maybe scare the woman off: if she thought he and Jarrod were together, she maybe wouldn’t be so on board with it all anymore - and besides, all he and Jarrod did together was just to pass the time.

“Mmm, lead the way, ma belle - space and a double bed sound like paradise to me as long as you’re involved.” When she grabbed a hold of his wrist with her right hand and Jarrod’s with her left, he gladly let her drag him and his friend along to the elevators, and then inside of one. Once the three of them were in there, however, Jarrod seemed to recover from his shock and he dragged his free hand over the girl’s arm, over her shoulder and then down her back, looking her over with clear hunger.

“Ai, you sure about it being the two of us? Can you handle it?”

“Hey, Jay, what’s the big fuckin’ idea here?!”, Gabriel said loudly, feeling at once horribly upstaged by his friend and fellow band member and on the other hand half out of his wits with a combination of tequila and the sight of the girl that had invited him up to her room with her to ‘burn off some frustration’. “You better fuckin’ watch that tongue or I’m breakin’ shit.”

“Relax, relax… you won’t have to break anything… I’m more than capable of handling two men, loverboy, in whatever way you want me to.”, she said, addressing Jarrod - when she did so, she turned away from him and right into Gabriel, who moaned silently when she pressed her shapely behind right against the very clear bulge in his pants. By the soft exhale she let slip that was almost a soundless moan - _almost_ \- Gabriel knew she’d done it on purpose and he grinned at Jarrod, feeling a little more bold.

“Hey, ami, I think she’s teasin’ us here… let’s show her what teasin’ gets her…” Jarrod’s predatory grin was extra promising to the tall blonde now that it didn’t just involve him anymore: the two men quickly pressed the hapless girl in between them, prompting her to voice a short ‘oh?’ of surprise and then a lengthy, indulgent ‘mmmmh...’ of utter satisfaction as Gabriel started nipping at the skin of her neck while Jarrod did the same at her clavicle. “Christ, she feels hot.”, Gabriel groaned, and Jarrod chuckled.

“Think how it’s gonna feel when you’re inside of her… bet she’s tight.”

“Oh _Christ_ , you two do this often?”, the girl panted, and Gabriel shrugged.

“Ain’t our first rodeo, ma flamme, and we love it.”

“I’ll bet you top, hot-shot - latin loverboy looks like he likes it when you take him.”, the girl exhaled right before the elevator doors opened, causing Gabriel and Jarrod to look at each other in surprise and then snort.

“Baby, that won’t matter in a minute, because you’re sure as hell takin’ us _both_ on. I hope you’ve got a lot of frustration to burn, ‘cause I am gonna set you _on fire_.”, Gabriel answered, to which Jarrod merely nodded with a devilish grin, and the girl licked her lips.

“You’d better. Now come on, we’re wasting time we could be spending a lot more pleasantly.” The three of them hurried towards a room at the far end of the hallway, which the girl opened with shaking hands before stumbling in, nearly not managing to close the door again because Jarrod had latched on to her again, giving her a hickey that’d stand out on her creamy skin. When Gabriel, deciding to not be upstaged by Jarrod a second time, gave her a similar mark on the right side of her neck, she moaned and pushed the two men off.

“You two… the bed, c’mon…” Jarrod nearly jumped onto the bed, while Gabriel was more subdued - though not by much, fuelled as he was by the prospect of getting with the admittedly gorgeous girl. “Now, what do you say to giving a girl a little show? You know, get her relaxed and in the mood…”

“Que?”, Jarrod said, clearly operating on limited thought capacity - again, not something that Gabriel could fault, since the sight of the young woman standing there was driving him out of his mind as well. Then, however, it seemed to hit the latino. “...You want a show? Me an’ him?”

“Mhm… well, not to worry, I’ll join in when I feel left out… but before that, I just want to see just how close the two of you can get.” Gabriel looked at Jarrod, who shrugged as if to say ‘I don’t care’ and then leaned in closer, and that was all it took for him to kiss his friend deeply. They didn’t kiss often - most of the time it was more upfront, like a handjob, blowjob or straight-up sex - and so it felt new, but by no means awkward. Jarrod was skilled with his tongue and before Gabriel knew it, they’d both pulled their shirts off and were lightly pressing against each other in an attempt to garner as much friction from one another as humanly possible while the girl looked on. “...God, those tattoos go up almost to your throat… Hmm, ‘burn me and I’ll rise again’, got to remember that one...”, the girl remarked, prompting Gabriel to turn to her and see she’d shed the barely-there skirt and was undoing the first of her knee-high boots agonizingly slowly, bent over a little, giving him an excellent view down her top and causing his throat to go dry. Then, of course, Jarrod groaned, missing the attention, and he turned back to his friend, sliding his hand slowly down his chest and then into his pants, causing Jarrod to shudder and halt the motions of his hips to allow him better access.

“Ai, amigo, no, if I go now-”

“Don’t worry.”, Gabriel said, grinning as he used his other hand to unbutton Jarrod’s pants and then pull them and his underwear down just enough to be able to stroke the guitarist’s impressive length. “If ya do come, I promise you either me or la flamme is gonna get you up an’ runnin’ again in no time. Lick you clean and then suck you off all over again...” He knew Jarrod was a sucker for the suggestion of oral, so the way he shuddered again, unsubtly, was hardly surprising - but what followed was definitely an added bonus.

“...Mmm, maybe while your friend here gives me a good _hard_ ride, I’ll happily oblige with his promise of cleaning you up and sucking you off all over again… unless you wouldn’t like that…”

“ _Ai míííí…!_ ”, Jarrod gasped out, painting his own stomach and Gabriel’s right hand with his semen, and while Jarrod collapsed backwards onto the bed, Gabriel found himself licking his knuckles clean absent-mindedly, trying hard not to give in to the urge to just let go and stain his own underwear while the girl made good on her promise and gently lapped up the rapidly cooling streaks of white fluid off Jarrod’s abs, which twitched under her ministrations. “Ai, ai mi, you two… Muchacha, you’d better brace yourself, I’m filling up that pretty mouth of yours in a minute…”, the latin guitar player mumbled - he’d need a few moments to gather himself again, moments that the girl clearly wanted Gabriel to spend preparing for making true _his_ end of the bargain.

“C’mon, hot-shot, undress, before loverboy here leaves you empty-handed and aching…”

“Okay…” The prospect of… how had she said it again? ‘A good hard ride’ - the promise of that while the girl gave Jarrod a little oral love, got Gabriel to undress more speedy than ever before. He hissed slightly when his erection finally got free of the restraining confines of his jeans and underwear, but soon enough his eyes settled on the girl, who had used the moment’s pause to shed the last of her clothes as well. She looked every bit ready for him, just the way he liked it. “Ah, bien, viens, ma flamme…”, he said imperiously, grinning when she crawled over to him, intending to kiss him. “Oh, no, no… kissin’ is what _teenagers_ do, we’re all grown adults here, we skip the kissin’ and go straight to the point. You’re leavin’ sore or you’re not leavin’ at all, baby...” He prodded her to sit with her back to him and ran her hands over her back before gripping her hips and thrusting into her hard, causing a muffled expletive to slip past his guard. “Merde, you’re boiling hot, ma flamme…”

“Ah, darling, _please_ …”, she said, sounding exasperated - when he thrust up into her again just as hard, she repeated those three words more hotly, and he grinned.

“So ya like it hard? ...Jarrod, she likes it hard, mon ami!”, he said; by now, his fellow band member had recovered and was almost casually stroking himself while watching the raver girl get filled from behind, but Gabriel knew that his and the girl’s previous promise had him hoping. Both of them, for that matter, because Gabriel had to admit that watching her service Jarrod would certainly make him lose it in one perfect go. In between perfect, hard thrusts that had the girl moaning increasingly loudly, Gabriel motioned for the other metalhead to get closer so the woman could do just as she’d promised while speaking heatedly to her. “...I think now’s the moment to open wide, ma chère-”

When she obliged and Jarrod thrust in, Gabriel half-expected her to gag and pull back a little. But when the girl, after her initial reflex had died down, eagerly relaxed her jaw and allowed Jarrod to go again… when she took all of him in like it wasn’t anything special at all, Gabriel lost it: gripping her hips, he rode out his climax right into her body and then kept going, by no means spent. The girl moaned something inarticulate against Jarrod’s privates, probably surprised that he didn’t need to pause even for a moment after reaching his peak - but that was the number one reason why he was so popular among his lovers: he didn’t need to stop, so he didn’t, unless his lover - or, in some cases, lovers - needed the break.

“Mmm, god yeah... how’s she feel, Jar’?”, Gabriel ground out, prompting Jarrod to first pant out a mild encouragement to the girl and then an answer.

“Ah, my god, s-she’s a real fireball, this one… h-her _throat_ , cabrón, she’s… ai, ai, así… mi angela… f-fuck, I’m gonna… gonna…” Suddenly but not unexpectedly, Jarrod gripped the girl by the hair on the back of her head and plainly started to rapidly thrust into her open mouth, shuddering and biting back a loud curse after only a few rolls of his hips. The girl mewled around him and eagerly drank down his seed before letting go of Jarrod’s hips - she’d probably grabbed hold of them to steady herself, Gabriel knew, since he’d felt her tense. Then, when she spoke, he had to admit that that tension wasn’t a surprise, considering how heated her voice had become.

“D-darling, I… I want to t-turn around now… God, you’re such a perfect man, I want to… I want to see your _eyes_ when you fuck me, wh-when you _lose it_ … oh god, I can’t take much more of this…” She was skating the edge, clearly, and Gabriel grinned, feeling up to one final feat that was sure to embed the memory of this night in her mind for a long time yet to come.

“Mmm, I wanna see ya lose it too, babe… god, you’re such a fuckin’ fireball, I could go all night with you… maybe ya should let me and Jarrod here show ya what it _really_ means to be fucked by two guys… Ya ever been DP’ed?”

“Mmm, n-not by two _guys_ …”, she admitted, her words prompting Gabriel to unsubtly bite his lip to counteract the rush that thought gave him with just enough pain to keep him from going over the edge already. “Oh dear God, do it… the two of you… I’m nearly going off j-just _thinking_ …”

“T’es parfaite, ma p’tite flamme, moi aussi… Jarrod, you good for it?”, he asked, and Jarrod nodded.

“Fuck yeah, man, I’m so ready for it…” Gabriel pulled the girl closer a little - he didn’t expect her to kiss him but he certainly didn’t complain that she did, finding that she was clearly more talented with her tongue than Jarrod was and tasting just the faintest hint of his friend’s slightly tangy fluids in the confines of her mouth - and then pulled her down just enough to allow Jarrod to kneel over the two of them and enter her from behind.

“Aw _SHIT!!_ ”, Gabriel instantly cursed as he pushed his fingernails right into the thick skin of his hands, hoping to draw blood in order to stave off release. The feeling of Jarrod’s length, slick with the girl’s saliva and her fluids, rubbing against his own member… he could die a happy man right then and there. Jarrod clearly shared the sentiment, because he groaned loudly, pressing slowly deeper into the girl, who moaned feebly.

“Oh god… y-you’re _so big_ , the both of you…”, she ground out, to which Gabriel answered by rolling his hips against her. With as little as a few looks and a few hasty exhales, Gabriel and Jarrod settled into a rhythm that was fast and hard and that had the girl pleading with every breath for more, for the night to never end and her stage performance to never come. But all three of them knew that they couldn’t last, that it was already miraculous how they’d managed to not pass out from the pleasure of their tryst when Jarrod entered the girl alongside Gabriel. It was the latino that first panted out the admission that he could only go so far.

“F-fuck, amigo… n-no puedo durar p-para siempre…. uhh… n-no, todavía no, _no todavía-a-ahhh_ …” He broke rhythm and came hard, setting _her_ off in turn: her pelvic muscles squeezed Jarrod and Gabriel’s members together as tightly as they could accomodate it, and Gabriel knew his battle to stave off another orgasm was lost.

“Oh _mmmon dieu…!_ ” Eyes shut and hands wrapped tightly around the girl’s waist to hold her close, he thrust up just once more into her, feeling as though his body couldn’t stop spilling his seed into the younger woman’s eager body. “...Oh… oh, god…”, he ground out after what felt like hours, gasping for breath as his muscles stopped twitching at long last. If he hadn’t already been laying back, he would’ve dropped flat onto the bed. “...Wow, you’re a real fireball, ma chère…”

“Why thank you… The two of you are quite entertaining as well - surprisingly wild even for heavy metal lovers. Mmm, wow, I haven’t quite had this much fun in my life…”, she admitted - however, just as Gabriel meant to comment and tell her that the same held true for them, her cellphone blared music and she sat up in the bed again. “Yes? ...He did, did he? Forty-five minutes? Make it thirty! Okay, I’ll be there! ...Sorry guys, got to dash - an hour and a half on stage at the wildest techno and hardstyle event of the country, I worked all my life for it... Oh, Christ, I’ll need to reapply my makeup… and freshen up, or I’m lighting up like a lightbulb underneath the blacklight.”

“You could say it’s bodypaint-”, Jarrod said, grinning like a fool before stretching and looking the girl over. “...Hey, linda, swing by our room after that performance of yours, why don’t ya?”

“Sure, leave your room number on my table!!”, she called from the shower, causing Gabriel and Jarrod to snort as they got dressed again. Gabriel left a card on the woman’s table, underneath her fishnet stockings so she’d be sure to notice it, after which he peeked into the bathroom, getting rewarded by a soft song. “ _Stir me, shake me, any way you want me, kiss me or kill me, do what you will… stir me, shake me, any way you want me… do what you will, I’m in for a thrill…_ ”

“Woohoohoo, sounds too mellow for me…”, Jarrod said as he put his ‘Shredder’ custom-made tee back on, sighing when Gabriel licked his lips and looked in the direction of the bathroom.

“...Hey, Jarrod, while she’s at that rave thing, you wanna freshen up a little? Take a shower… maybe have a bottle of tequila sent up to our room…” He didn’t need to explicitly add ‘misbehave a little together’: Jarrod grinned and nodded.

“Hell, sure, the chica got me in the mood for an all-night session. ...Dan’s gonna kill us when we show up hung over and sleep-deprived, though…”, he said, trying to sound as if he considered listening to their bass player; it ended when Gabriel snorted.

“...I can take him murdering me in the morning if the rest of the night promises to be as fuckin’ awesome as she made it just now…”

 

*six months later*

 

“Yo, guys, guys!! _Guys!_ ”, Refial shouted over the din in the tour bus - when the others didn’t instantly quiet down, he banged his fist on the doorway three times to get their attention. “ _GUYS!!_ Pipe the hell down, I’m on the phone with Delia and she needs to talk to us about something important!! Bunch of fuckin’ pricks!! ...Oh, uh, sorry, miss Cee-”

“ _Don’t y’apologise, Refial, ah know each an’ every one of yew.”_

“Some more intimately than others…”, Gabriel commented offhand, hoping that Delia wouldn’t hear; the others didn’t react, and wisely so, because the scathing comment came from the woman herself.

“ _Ain’t no law ‘gainst havin’ a pyrotechnician fer a boyfriend, misteh Dantan - ‘sides, let’s not git started on that, ah think half’a the world knows who_ yew _take t’yer bed.”_

“Ah, señorita Conagher, forgive Gabriel… you had something important you wanted to talk to us about?”, he offered. The woman either felt that Jarrod’s apology would do, or she was reminded that her news was more important than Gabriel’s insolence: either way, she cleared her throat and spoke again.

“ _Yeah, thanks fer remindin’ me, Jarrod. Yeh’re aware that our record label’s got a lot ‘f artists signed - from heavy metal and hard rock bands over classical musicians and folk groups to happy-hardcore and hardstyle DJs. One ‘f our other artists is workin’ on a new album - ‘s called ‘Rise Higher’ and they’re all fire-themed songs title- or lyrics-wise, and they wrote tuh the label head office with a request tuh remix one’a yer songs fer the album-”_

“Which one?”, Refial asked before Gabriel could do the same, and the answer didn’t surprise any of the men.

“‘ _Purify’ - though the letter mentions they’re gonna call it somethin’ diff’rent… wait, the letter mentions it… ah, ‘ere we go… wait, let me jus’ quote th’entire thing to yeh.... ‘s maybe easier… ‘Dear ms. Conagher, dear members of ‘Chains of Fire’, my name is Sam Tennant, the driving force behind the BeatSteel formation. Your record label signed us on three months ago to produce our second album, after our debut album which was produced independently was such a smash hit. We want to make sure the successor of ‘Beats Evolved’ is even better, and so we poured our heart and soul into ‘Rise Higher’ - but we need a crowning jewel, and to get that, we would like to incorporate a remix of a song that breathes the spirit of the album in words we could never perfect as well as the men of ‘Chains of Fire’ did. Part of their song, ‘Purify’, would be perfect for an edit. I am referring not to the entire song but to the chorus: ‘I stand before you now, fists in the air / rising from my ashes so you better beware / your fire in my veins, like the lightning in the sky / like a thunderstorm, I am reborn, reformed, remade to purify’ The song has been made - or a better term would be ‘a first rough edit has been made’ - and we would like to present it to the people responsible._

‘ _We know the good gentlemen of ‘Chains of Fire’ are also under your record label, that’s why we write to them and to you at the same time, because they wrote these lyrics and they’ve got the final say about this, regardless of whether they’ve signed their music over to you. We wish to offer fair recompensation for use of the lyrics, at a rate of 10% of royalties. However, if the band has other requirements, or they wish to hear the rough cut of the song so far to make sure that their lyrics are in no way mishandled, we can fully understand that and we hope that we can trust you, Ms. Conagher, to kindly arrange for us to meet_ _with the owners of the lyrics-’-”_

“Wait, Gabriel owns half of our songs, who…?”, Refial said - he’d joined the band after their previous second guitar player, Mason, had decided he wanted to put more time and effort into a band of his own, and so he wasn’t up to speed with the rights to some of their earlier songs, so Cameron enlightened him quickly.

“‘Purify’, an’ some other songs, Gabriel co-wrote with Jarrod, yah see, mate? So they co-own the rights. They’s listed on our album as ‘Dantan & Dangerfeld’ - go look it up, hm?” Refial rolled his eyes but didn’t move yet, and over the phone Delia sighed and read out the remainder of the letter.

“ _-’-misters Dantan and Dangerfeld, to arrange the specific terms and conditions of the transfer._

‘ _In hopes of a positive answer, yours sincerely, Sam Tennant (BeatSteel)’ ...So there yeh have it, pardners.”_

“...I dunno… Sounds like that isn’t my kinda thing, señorita Cee…”, Jarrod said, though Gabriel sighed softly and spoke more positively.

“Hell, I know it’s not my kind of music… Well, that doesn’t mean _shit_. I mean, we got permission to make a heavy metal cover of that one song, ya know the one… ‘Sweetest sin’?”, he offered, rolling his eyes when the others looked at him.

“Hey, I thought you wrote that…”, Dan said, causing Gabriel to chuckle.

“Sorry to disappoint ya, but some cowboy-lookin’ character called Dwight Markham wrote the words to that little gem. So maybe hardstyle or whatever the hell this BeatSteel guy plays isn’t my kind of music, doesn’t mean they can’t pull off an ass-kickin’ version of ‘Purify’... but I feel kinda bad about sayin’ ‘sure, use our lyrics’ to just _anyone_ , ya know. We’d need to meet with this Sam Tennant character first-”

“ _Yeah, ah figured ‘s much, so ah set up a meetin’ ‘tween yew an’ them after yer tour, which is in ‘bout a week. Yew still got three concerts tuh give, right?”_

“Yeah, and then we can head on home!”, Dan said, to which Refial added.

“Like it’s really a break - we’re home for maybe three hours and then we’ll need to dive right back into the studio to work on the new album… plus the artwork… Damn it, I’m getting tired just thinking about it!”

“ _Yew an’ me both, Reffiel.”_ , Delia assured them through the telephone, still not speaking, clealy expecting Gabriel or Jarrod to speak up again. It was the guitarist who did so, after a few more seconds of tense silence.

“...Bueno, so we meet with this Sam hombre… but I still wanna know what they sound and look like! I don’t want to just sign over the lyrics that Gabriel an’ me spent hours on refining to the first artist that asks - those words _mean_ something, and I wanna make sure that, if they get remixed, it’s the right artist that does it, comprende, amiga?”

“ _Oh, ah comprende muy bien, Jarrod. ...Well, if’n yeh want, ah kin send yew some’a their music vids over mail-”_

“Music videos n’nous disent rien, ‘d’moiselle Delia…”, Gabriel reacted with uncharacteristic morosity, “...Is there any way we could see ‘em perform?” The woman thought that over for a moment and then quickly rifled through papers before speaking up.

“ _Ah, lookie here, they’s performin’ in yer layover town t’morrah - t’night, yeh got tha’ concert in Vallerno, an’ then in two days yeh gotta be in LA, right? ...There’s a live set BeatSteel’s gon’ be doin’ at an event in Val de Palmas which y’all are goin’ tuh be passin’ right ‘round then. Yew kin go an’ see ‘em there, ah’ll let the security guys know they kin let yew in.”_

“That sounds excellent, miss Delia!”, Jarrod said, and Gabriel nodded, speaking up next.

“Merci. Well, then, see you in a week’s time?”

“ _Heh, yeah - ‘m not gonna be present fer the meetin’ proper, this is ‘tween yew an’ them, but ah’ll see yeh. Maybe even attend yer concert in LA-”_

“Aww, you miss Ash, huh?”, Jarrod said teasingly - Gabriel winced, remembering how his earlier words had gotten him a scolding remark from the woman, but now she seemed to be mollified - that, or Jarrod’s natural charm worked through telephone as well now.

“ _Ah’ll jus’ pretend ah ain’t even heard tha’, Jarrod, son… see yeh ‘round, fellers! An’, uh, good luck with yer performance tuhnight, ‘course.”_ The call ended, and Refial groaned, stretching again.

“You guys, I’m takin’ a nap-”

“Yeah right, like hell you’re taking a nap, you just wanna jerk off in peace.”, Gabriel reacted, snorting when Refial gave him the one-fingered salute before adding a verbal continuation.

“Yeah, well, better dream of getting blown by a decent man than get sucked off by Jay-Day, Dante, even if he swallows _your_ spunk like it’s whipped cream.”

“I oughta fuck you with a butterfly knife, _Reffy_ -”, Gabriel said, but the youth had already moved to the back of the bus, where their sleeping quarters were; Jarrod sighed and patted Gabriel on the back to calm him down.

“...Well, he was allowed to have a little revenge for us wakin’ him up this morning, amigo, we shouldn’t have forgotten the shower’s right next to his bunk-”

“Hey, _hey_ , we still got to shower in there too, yah wankahs!”, Cameron instantly reacted, and Dan groaned.

“I don’t _need_ either of your DNA all over me, assholes - next time you get any ideas about that shower, _Dante, Jarrod,_ you’re gonna need to start thinking about a different name ‘cause you’ll be goin’ through life as _women._ ”

“Touchy…”, Jarrod said, still grinning despite the threat - he knew Dan wouldn’t follow through with it, but at the same time he knew that he and Gabriel probably needed to cool their ardor a little more while on tour, which got him to add in a quieter tone: “...but okay, ya won’t catch us givin’ the shower another coat, d’acuerdo?”

“Better not.”, Cameron grumbled, and Dan just gave the two a glare before retreating to his own bunk, which was on the other side of the narrow hallway of Refial’s, and they could hear the bass player hit the other guitarist’s door and shout at him to stop moaning.

“...Yo, Gabriel, since sleeping isn’t the order of the day, and the shower’s off limits too… you wanna jam a little? Write something stupid?”

“Meh…”, Gabriel said, laying back across the mini-sofa they’d installed in the tour bus, grumbling as he always did since his six feet never fit comfortably in it, and then he sighed. “Okay, maybe some ad-lib is gonna get my mind off the fuckin’ killer backache I’m havin’ already…”

 

The basses were already pounding by the time Gabriel and Jarrod arrived at the venue, backed up by Refial who had told them he’d visited some hardstyle festivals himself back when he was still a teenager and before he’d discovered heavy metal. He looked right at home with the skin-tight bright red t-shirt and training pants he wore; Gabriel and Jarrod, with their sleeveless band shirts and Gabriel’s tattoos, did not. As promised by Delia, the security guards at the front let them in instantly.

“Jeez, this is… I can’t even feel my own damn heartbeat anymore!!”, Jarrod said, to which Gabriel understandably reacted with the only possible thing he could say considering the circumstances.

“What’d ya say?!!”

“I said… ah, nevermind!! When are they playin’?!”, he asked, and Refial checked his watch.

“They should’a started by now!! Wait, I’m askin’ the bartender!!”, he said, moving through the crowd of dancing people with ease, leaving Gabriel and Jarrod standing at the edge, watching the DJ on the stage and the dancers on either side of him.

“Hey, they’re pretty fuckin’ hot, ain’t even too different from the chicas that go to our concerts, man, just… more bright colors, less pale faces and black lipstick. Aiii…”, Jarrod sighed when one of the dancers twirled and then dipped low on the stage. “...How do the guys here still _dance_?!”

“Prob’ly wearin’ real tight underwear?!”, Gabriel joked - he looked at the stage to see the first DJ leave the stage and the dancers waving at the crowd before retreating as well just as Refial joined them again.

“They’re playin’ now, just settin’ up an’-”

“Lemme hear you, party people!!” Up on the stage, a man dressed in a tight sleeveless white shirt and green pants, his hair shining with hair gel; Gabriel wouldn’t be surprised if the man lit up under blacklight like a spotlight, hair and all. “Awright, one last loud shout for DJ U-No!!”, he called out again, which got a loud reaction from the crowd, though the next shout was even louder and even slightly _euphoric_. “...An’ now let’s hear it for BeatSteel!!!” The boxes came alive with loud, thumping basses again, and the screens on the stage flared up with light and color as the deejay appeared on stage. Already, Gabriel scowled at the guy, whose hair was slicked back and whose youthful, angular face didn’t exactly give him a lot of trust in the remix. His voice, too, sounded horribly immature and cocky.

“ _When you want to kick it, brotha, don’t look any further, BeatSteel got ya back! We are gonna burn it up tonight!!”_

“Jesus, this guy is horrible-”, Jarrod started, but then, in a rain of sparks, three dancers appeared: the two on the outside wore all-white and danced slowly and seductively, but the third one, dressed in hues of red and orange and looking much like a human flame with her hair gelled up, danced with more energy, and Gabriel licked his lips.

“Mon dieu, I get what ya meant just now… _fuck_ , that center one…” He then noticed a spot of red on the inside of her left wrist and he blinked. “...Wait a sec…”

“What?”, Jarrod said, but Gabriel already followed the edge of the crowd, getting close enough to the stage to verify his hunch. He returned to a confused-looking Jarrod and a non-understanding Refial. “Why’d ya-?”

“It’s _her_ , Jar’! She’s got that heart tattoo on the inside of her wrist, man, it’s got to be her!”

“Her?”, the latino said, but then he, too, caught on and looked at the center dancer, who was now singing in the microphone.

“ _Go higher… take me to the sky… go higher… spread your wings and fly… go hiiiigheeeeer…_ ” The deejay then mixed up her voice in the mechanical melody that worked up to a crescendo before the beats were added to it. Under cover of the thumping music, Refial looked from Gabriel to Jarrod and back.

“You… really? _Really_?! You _banged that dancer_?! _Both of you_?!!”

“Hey, don’t make it sound like a sin, hombre, she propositioned us-”

“Yeah, an’ the two of you objected loudly, clearly.”, Refial said, shaking his head and then looking back at the center dancer, who was now standing with her back towards the crowd, making slow circles with her hips as she raised her arms over her head. “...Holy shit - hold my drink for a sec…”

“What’s he… why is _he_ going in for a closer look?”, Gabriel said, blinking.

“Must be jealous.” Jarrod’s words sounded mocking, to which the taller blonde band member snorted softly.

“First off, he’s with Joel, and the little prick makes it a point to show the rest of the fuckin’ world that he’s perfectly happy with the guy; and secondly, he isn’t interested in girls, the little prick makes _that_ even _more_ of a point. I don’t have a clue why he’s goin’ in for a closer look…” Their friend returned, looking utterly baffled.

“Well, she definitely _met_ ya before - she’s got your quote tattooed on her arm, Dante. ‘Burn me and I’ll rise again’?”, he added when Gabriel clearly didn’t understand, prompting the metal singer to look at the dancer again. Indeed, when she turned to the right side of the venue, he could see a flame-shaped tattoo on her right arm that looked like it had words written inside.

“Heh, would ya look at that, she actually remembered the damn words!”, Gabriel said softly to himself, grinning. Then, however, the beat hit hard again and he winced, speaking more loudly: “...Let’s get out of here, I think I might be havin’ a heart attack!” The three of them slowly wound their way back out again, from where the sound of the deejay’s voice sounded muffled.

“So?”, Refial asked, and Gabriel rolled his eyes.

“ _So_ that shithead DJ looks like a prick an’ I ain’t trustin’ him with my lyrics, no way. I _am_ gonna ask him where he hires his live entertainment, though-”, he added, causing the youngest of their band to groan loudly.

“Is there any time you _don’t_ think with your dick, Dante?”

“I-”

“Wait, scratch that, is there any time you actually _think_ , Gabe?”, Refial amended quickly, and Gabriel, true to his short fuse, spat back at him.

“Like _you_ would’ve been able to think if those were _male_ dancers with outfits like those. Then you wouldn’t be thinkin’ of _Joel_ when shootin’ a blank next time, Refi...” Refial spluttered a vague retort, causing Jarrod to chuckle and pat both other men on the shoulders.

“Let’s just go back to the bus, amigos, and wash our brains of this… _gah_ , not my kinda music _at all_ , de mierda…”, he ground out when the thumping beat sounded from inside again, muffled but still near-tangible in their bodies, and the other men didn’t protest at all.

 

A week later saw Jarrod and Gabriel walk through the hallways of the TF Records company, on their way to the meeting Delia had set up for them with the deejay. Gabriel’s resolve not to give his lyrics to a man that looked the epitome of untrustworthy had only grown, and Jarrod was completely on board with his friend’s opinion. Now, however, the meeting itself was far from their minds. Delia caught sight of them and her voice preceded her towards them.

“Whut d’ah tell yew two ‘bout meetin’ with other artists?! _Suit an’ tie, both’a yew!_ ”

“Aww, miss Cee, suit and tie isn’t my style or Gabriel’s-”, Jarrod tried, but the woman didn’t relent.

“Ah don’t care, yew two - at least _try_ not t’embarrass the rest ‘f the world! ...Honestly, yew two oughta at least be wearin’ a decent shirt, so c’mon, both’a yeh…” Her hands closed around their wrists and she pulled them along with ironclad strength - something that Gabriel found himself unable not to make a smart comment about.

“Ouch, m’dame Conagher, you’re strong, no wonder you went for _Ash_ of all people-”

“Yew really wanna know why ah ‘went for Ash’, Dantan? Promise it’s a reason yeh kin _appreciate_.”, Delia said, and Gabriel paled. She hadn’t actually said the words, but he could guess them; Jarrod likewise, judging by the way he shook his head. “...An’ yew make tha’ sound like Ash’s lucky tuh even _git_ attention, son, he’s got plenty’a charm an’ a good head on them shoulders. Never yeh mind ‘is scars an’ the way he speaks - in fact, if’n yeh’re thinkin’ physical marks, _yew_ got some purdy off-settin’ ones yerselves.” They’d reached the woman’s office in the meantime, where she pushed them inside and then rifled through a small closet that stood in one corner, producing a dark red shirt and a black one. “Awright, yeh idjits, put on them shirts-”

“Miss Conagher, t’rigoles-”, Gabriel tried, but the woman would hear none of it.

“Put them on or ah’m _puttin’_ ‘em on. With a tie.”

“Okay, okay… Habíamos poner mejor en la camiseta, amigo, o nos enviaremos a la reunión atados como animales salvajes…”, Jarrod said, grabbing the all-black shirt and handing the dark red one to Gabriel, who left the top two buttons open as a silent protest. When they exited again and Delia noticed, all she did was sigh.

“...Well ‘least yew got the damn thing _on_ yeh… Now c’mon, let’s go. Ah won’t be in this ‘ere meeting with yew, figure yeh kin take care’a yer own affairs - but if’n yeh need me, ah’ll be jus’ down the hall. Yeh’re in meetin’ room 1-11…”, she said, pointing out the sign outside the room before adding: “...an’ ah’m gonna be in meetin’ room 1-05 with the manager ‘f yer li’l friend Sam Tennant. Seems like BeatSteel wants a couple’a changes.”

“...Okay, bien… So we wait?”, Gabriel asked, and Delia nodded.

“They oughta be arrivin’ any second now, so yeah. Jus’ take a seat, boys.” Gabriel nodded and sat down, though Jarrod walked around the room for a second before sitting down next to him.

“...We got signed in a room just like this, ya remember?”

“Think I’m ever gonna forget achieving what I’d always dreamed about, mon ami? No fuckin’ chance. ...Think it could even be _this_ room. ...Man, d’you still remember when we brought the demo tape and Delia played it full blast? All those other meeting rooms, we thought they’d come storming in for sure but they never said a word. Delia looked happy, though.”

“Ai, such a señora primorosa, but with a metal heart…”, Jarrod said with a broad, happy smile, something that Gabriel instantly answered. They were lucky that they had Delia for a company contact: she didn’t put up with bullshit, neither from them nor from anyone else concerning them, and she’d given them opportunities that other bands rarely ever got, such as radio interviews and performances, or the chance to get their music included in video games… They could hear Delia’s footsteps rapidly go to the end of the hallway, dying away from their ears quickly, and the two men sighed simultaneously. “...So, you still dead sure, amigo?”

“You saw that guy, you want _him_ remixin’ the song we poured so much of ourselves into, man? Jamais d’ma vie.” Footsteps approached them again: the steady clicking of high heels on the laminate floors of the hallways slowly came closer, and Jarrod and Gabriel blinked.

“...Delia said she had a meeting down the hallway, why’s she-”

“Wait, what?” The voice from the doorway was definitely not Delia’s, and when Gabriel and Jarrod both looked there, they saw the dancer standing there, wearing a cream-colored pencil skirt and a lime green sleeveless top and high-heeled shoes that made her legs look near-endless. “...T-this can’t be right…”

“Believe me, I don’t know what’s goin’ on either, but you’re _really_ not who we expected to see. Nice surprise, of course-”, Gabriel said, which harvested a short, brilliant smile from the girl.

“Heh, likewise.”

“...But, uh, we were expectin’ a guy.” The girl looked understandably upset, to which Jarrod quickly elaborated.

“We came to see your performance in Val de Palmas six days ago and we thought-”

“You did? ...Well, then, you saw me perform, didn’t you?”, she said, walking briskly up to a chair opposite the men, tension still clear in her shoulders; Gabriel took over from Jarrod, explaining further.

“Yeah, uh, we didn’t stick around for too long, we saw ya dance during the first song while that slick connard manned the controls behind ya-

“Oh _god_ , no wonder you were confused…”, the girl said, sighing and sitting down before looking at them again with a shy grin. “That was Archie. Archie is - well, _was_ , I’m supposed to say - the second half of BeatSteel. I made my first album with his help. But him and I want to go our separate ways both in terms of music and of life… So yes, I’m Sam Tennant. Sam as in Samantha, of course.” Gabriel grinned and motioned for Jarrod first and then himself as he introduced them.

“A real pleasure. This is Jarrod Dangerfeld, who goes by ‘Jay-Day’ in the band, an’ I’m Gabriel Dantan or ‘Dante’ for the metalheads. So… let’s talk shop, I suppose.” The girl smiled and shook his hand, then Jarrod’s, before sitting down again.

“Of course, mister Dantan-” Gabriel halted just as he was easing back into his seat and looked her over in clear hunger.

“Hey, don’t you go callin’ me ‘mister Dantan’, that is too fuckin’ hot comin’ from _you_. ...Merde, I didn’t bargain on having to negotiate with someone I already did. Didn’t work with Jar’ here, and it sure as hell isn’t gonna work here. All I’ll keep thinkin’ about is you naked an’ splayed on the meeting table, ma chère.”

“Business before pleasure.”, Sam chided - naturally, Gabriel’s mind jumped to conclusions at that turn of phrase.

“Oh, is that a promise that there’s gonna be pleasure after the business?”

“Dios mío, Gabriel, trate de mantenerse bajo control… mierda, ahora tengo esa imagen pegada en mi cabeza, maldita sea! How am I gonna concentrate-”

“Guys, really, breathe, seat yourselves again - if anyone walks past, they could get the wrong idea seeing you all excited like you are… We’re settling this business deal first, and after, you’re _very_ cordially invited to my hotel room two blocks from here to celebrate our cooperation. I daresay Damien will be taking Delia out to dinner anyways, he loves charming her-” Gabriel could hear a certain familiarity in her voice as she mentioned the name of her manager, but Jarrod interrupted.

“Ai, hope he likes getting in trouble then, Ash is kinda protective an’ jealous-”

“He’ll be treating the both of them to dinner, and he’ll probably be bringing his fiancée Katrin along too. Katrin Patterson.”

“...Holy shit, she… your manager knows Katrin Patterson?”, Gabriel said, blinking.

“Correction, he’s going to _marry_ Katrin Patterson.”

“Sainte Mère, I’d fuck _Ash_ if it’d get me the attention of Katrin Patterson-”

“Don’t let Delia catch you sayin’ that, amigo, or they’ll find your body stuffed in an amplifier.”, Jarrod said, sitting down and looking at Sam as she pulled three single sheets of paper from her briefcase, sliding two sheets to him and Gabriel.

“I took the liberty of having Damien draft an agreement that’d make sure both sides get exactly what they’re looking for business-wise.”, she said smartly, prompting Jarrod and Gabriel to look the agreement over. It was solid, they were sure of it: the agreement promised to credit them for the lyrics on the album and to give them 10% of the royalties on the song for all digital and non-digital sales plus a fixed fee for every time the song would be included in a live or pre-recorded playlist, adding that any future remixes would be governed by the same terms for both parties involved, and it also listed the exact lyrics to be used. Gabriel felt impressed, and a look at Jarrod proved that his friend, too, was happily surprised by the neatness of the contract, which took up about three-quarters of the page.

“...Looks okay… think everything’s arranged…”

“Oh guys, did you even read it through properly?”, Sam asked, and Gabriel intended to react and say that he was a fast reader when he felt Sam’s bare foot against his ankle and he halted. Slowly, her toes crept up, further and further along his calf, then over his knee… and she wasn’t stopping. “You should look it over properly, you know…”, Sam chided softly, her voice warmer than the occasion merited, slightly confusing Gabriel as by that time, her foot was halfway across his thigh. She didn’t even shift in her seat, not even when her foot lightly pressed against his groin - he caught himself thinking just how long her legs were until he mused that the table was narrow enough for her to do what she was doing, which was oddly exhilarating. Next to him, Jarrod inhaled sharply, and the two men looked at each other and then at the woman in front of them, who now _did_ shift a little in her seat as the pad of her foot pressed a little more insistently against the front of Gabriel’s jeans, causing him to grin. She wanted to tease again, then she’d get what she came for, and a hell of a lot more.

“You know, Jarrod, I… mmm, I think this contract needs another clause in it obligin’ her to come give us _live performances_ at least once every three months, don’t ya agree? I mean, we saw her dance now, didn’t we?” His tone was challenging, something that got the guitarist on board in a heartbeat: grinning, Jarrod pretended to skim over the contract and then looked right at Sam.

“Ya mean that isn’t in there yet? Hell, amiga, that _definitely_ needs to be put into writing here! Once every three months, a private live performance… Maybe even a li’l _more_ …” Jarrod’s words ended in a heated groan as Sam’s foot evidently pressed against his groin a second before she mirrored the gesture with Gabriel, who bit his lip softly but didn’t relent just yet.

“Oh, definitely a little more… we can make demands, ya know… if we want you doin’ that dance ya did on stage in _lingerie_ , ma chère… fuck, I can’t think about that now or I’m pulling you over that table an’ onto my lap.”

“Mister Dantan-” She probably meant to chide him again, but then Jarrod caught up and her foot on his groin faltered for the first time.

“Oh no, Gabe, I got a _better_ idea, amigo - pull her onto the table an’ then we can _both_ go to town on her… hell, she doesn’t even got to remove that skirt, just pull it up, pull down those panties… ah, or maybe she’s wearing stay-ups! Please, amiga, dime esas son calcetines hasta el muslo, por lo que no tiene que quitárselas mientras te llevo… then I’d just have to pull up that skirt-”

“ _Damn it_ , you two, just sign the damn contract before I _lay down_ on the table.” Sam interrupted him, fidgeting with the pen she held and licking her lips slowly, her feet rubbing insistently against both men’s thighs as they signed their copies and then handed them to each other before both sliding them to Sam, receiving her signed copy and each signing it in turn while she put her autograph on their copies. “...Now that we took care of the business part of our meeting-”

“Amiga, I think you’ll need a miracle to get us out of here without anyone noticing we got a little overexcited… think we’ll need to start the party right here…”, Jarrod said, reaching for her, but Gabriel shook his head.

“Between walkin’ away and getting looked at funny or gettin’ caught in here by Delia and Sam’s manager balls-deep in her mouth - oh, ya better believe me, ma chère, I’m takin’ ya any damn way I can think of an’ then some, and so is Jarrod here-” He got cut off by Sam pulling him by the lapels of his shirt towards her, kissing him so fiercely he was genuinely surprised to feel her hands smooth over his chest when he pulled her closer, trailing his hands over her back to her bottom and then her hips. His hands were joined by Jarrod’s, who grabbed her hips and gently pressed against her from behind, kissing her neck lightly.

“ _Damn iiiiit_ …”, Sam groaned, her light touch against Gabriel’s chest growing more insistent again when Jarrod crooned heatedly right into her ear.

“Ai, amiga, I wasn’t kidding about those stay-ups - or about fuckin’ you on the table…” Sam groaned, and Gabriel did too, relenting. Quickly, he walked off to the doors of the meeting room, closing and locking them before returning to the deejay who gladly kissed him again when he pressed against her once more. “Lift the skirt, mi hermosa, let’s see what-” She complied, slowly and teasingly, showing that she wore stay-ups just as Jarrod had been hoping - and then, Gabriel saw that she wore flimsy, lacy barely-there underwear and his heart felt like it stopped and restarted a few feet lower in his body. “Díos mio-”

“I hope this is the same room me and Jarrod got signed in, because if this isn’t soundproofed we don’t ever get to show our faces in here anymore after all the screaming you’ll do, Sammy Tennant - t’vais perdre ton voix en criant ton plaisir à nous…”

“You know what? I seem to not _care_ about being looked at, boys, so give me your best shot.”, she answered, grinning broadly when Gabriel mumbled ‘oh you are getting it’ before looking at Jarrod. “Well, _mister Dangerfeld_ , what are _you and him_ waiting for, a written invitation? This is a party of three, not one… take it off…” Gabriel complied just as hastily as Jarrod did, though he didn’t push his pants all the way down, just opening them and pulling out his manhood, which in itself already felt like a liberation. Next to him, Jarrod grinned, evidently proud of himself, and then Sam pushed him back down into one of the chairs.

“Oye, amiga, what-”, he started, halting when Sam straddled him in favor of groaning loudly as her lacy lingerie brushed his length; but she clearly didn’t feel like the position wouldn’t do properly, because she shook her head, stepped back from him and removed her panties swiftly before sitting down onto his lap. “Ai, madre Díos, si esta es su idea de las burlas, será mejor parada ante sí se pone serio…”

“I’ve no idea what you just said…”, Sam said, groaning loudly as she lifted herself just a little before lowering down onto Jarrod again, slowly embedding himself inside of her with a happy little moan, continuing in a heated tone: “...but it sounded like ‘get on with it’... mmm, my, you _are_ big…”

“G-gabriel… wins out on me… t-that _wayyyy_ …”, Jarrod panted out, his hands faltering between gripping her hips and groping her through her blouse. Then, when Gabriel meant to ask whether she’d get to him now, Jarrod verbally prodded their lover: “Don’t forget mi amigo… y-you were so good to me last time… be _great_ to him now…” The words brought back visions of Sam allowing Jarrod to sink into her mouth to the hilt, and Gabriel groaned.

“Ahh, fuck, yeah…” Then, when Sam grabbed hold of him and slowly went down on him, the confines of her mouth and then her throat feeling so incredibly hot around his length, the singer repeated those words heatedly. _“Oh, fuuuuck yeah…_ D-damn it, your lips… g-god, how deep d’you intend…” Her answer came in the form of her hand grasping his and bringing it up to the back of her head, where it instantly tangled in her hair, before pushing onto it to show that he was allowed to do as Jarrod had done the previous time and take control. Briefly, he considered that she didn’t know what she was in for when giving him free rein, but then he thrust into her mouth and she nearly _sang_ around his length and he amended that thought. She knew, and she wanted every second of it. Jarrod moaned as well: evidently she’d used his thrust to push down onto his friend in turn. “Fuck, Jar’, s-she’s more than a fireball, she- _oh mon dieu, mmmon dieu, aie pitiééé…_ ”, Gabriel ground out as Sam swirled her tongue around the tip of his length as he drew back, instantly relaxing her jaw again when he thrust into her mouth hard, pushing her back down onto Jarrod. “ _Fuck_ , sh-she’s an _inferno come to life_ … I’m _burnin’_ with _every god-damn thrust_ …”, he breathed, punctuating each word with another thrust into her eager mouth, pushing her down onto Jarrod more and more forcefully and causing his friend and fellow band member to moan loudly as he finally relented and pushed his hands underneath her blouse to squeeze her breasts roughly.

“M-madre de Díos, ella es _tan caliente_ , amigo, tan a _-ahh-_ ansioso por nosotros, c-cómo no darle lo que quiere?”, he ground out, adding in plain English a second and a loud gasp later: “S-she loves it… l-loves bein’ fucked like this… then let’s give it to her, Gabe, _ahh_ , give her a _gooooood_ ride… mmm, amiga, w-we’re… ai mi, tan caliente…” Jarrod squeezed her bosom yet again as he focused on his actions again instead of voicing them, but Gabriel was now spurred on by him: the mere thought of telling her plainly what they’d do to her and how, and the way she’d react to it, had him press his fingernails into the palms of his hand to counterbalance the pleasure it gave him with just enough pain to hold off release.

“Oh, _Sammy,_ we’re gonna fill you up - _uhhn, yeah…_ stuff you s-so _sooo_ full… oh God, better be ready, mmmma chère… w-when you walk outta here, _ah Christ_ , ça va écouler sur vos jambes, _aaall over those damn s-stay-ups… oh s-shiiit…!_ ” Gabriel couldn’t handle the combination of the mental image and the feeling of Sam taking him down all the way: gripping her head, he thrust roughly into her as he came, seemingly setting her off as well. Her own cries of oblivious pleasure were muffled by his length. Jarrod’s, however, were not.

“ _C-chingao, es demasiado… Ahhh fuck yeah!_ ” The only sound inside of the room after the latino’s loud exclamation was the creaking of the chair Jarrod was sat in, and then, their rapid, heaving breaths as they all basked in their separate but simultaneous afterglow. Gabriel silently groaned as Sam pulled off him, but then he grinned as she licked her lips and looked up at him. She looked completely messy, the hair at the back of her head tangled slightly from when he’d gripped it before, her lips slightly more rosy from all the friction, and her skirt pushed up around her waist, showing how Jarrod still was inside her…

“Okay, y’know what? Let’s go to that hotel room of yours now, ma chère… I think I can get away with people seeing how fuckin’ turned on you made me _again_ , but if Delia catches us like this… elle nous tue, n’importe rien. And if I’m dying today or tonight, it’s inside of you.”

“...Que?”, Jarrod said, showing he’d still been in his own post-climactic haze, but when he caught Gabriel’s grin, he nodded and understood the gist of it. “Sí, yeah, let’s move this party somewhere more comfy.”

“Okay, okay, give me a second to get decent again and… oh, who am I kidding…”, Sam sighed, combing her fingers through her hair to get a semblance of neatness back before straightening her skirt as Jarrod and Gabriel closed their pants again, making sure they didn’t betray too much of how eager they were for the deejay to anyone looking at them. “Got the contracts, boys? Yes?”, Sam said - Gabriel and Jarrod nodded, grinning in anticipation from ear to ear. “Then let’s go and _celebrate_ …”

 

“...I’m glad we can come to such a good understanding, Delia.”, Damien Tennant said as he and the woman exited the meeting room where they’d been discussing the changes to BeatSteel that Samantha had wanted. “Samantha will be thrilled to hear this, she was nervous about meeting the men from ‘Chains of Fire’. Heavy metal isn’t usually her thing-”

“Ah imagine an artist’s gotta look fer inspiration in the darndest places.”, Delia conceded with a smile, which Damien mirrored instantly before nodding.

“Yes, I daresay that’s true. She’s been working on three remixes for the new album - the one from your friends of ‘Chains of Fire’, one of a song of a modern-day crooner called Eric Adams, you know him… _‘love’s got a hold on me... ‘_ or _‘She lit me like a match, and I’m burning in her hands, oh Lord, I’ll do anything she commands...’_... no?”

“Heh, well, sure, ah _know_ ‘im, ah seen ‘im perform ah think… but he ain’t with our comp’ny. An’ the third remix?”

“A collab project with _two_ other artists, a country singer called Dwight Markham and the vocalist of an all-female softrock band called Anna Rodgers. She had the two of them sing the vocal parts of her song together, and then Anna and Sami sang a duet that Dwight accompanied with his guitar, and Dwight and Sami sang an alternative version of one of Anna’s band’s hits. Miss Rodgers and mister Markham looked really pleased to work together. A little _too_ pleased if you ask me…”

“Yeah, well, ‘s whut happens e’ry now an’ then… yeh don’t meet much more ‘n fans an’ roadies when yeh’re livin’ the band life, so when someone comes ‘cross yer path that _understands_ tha’... It’s the reason why ah’m so happy with Ash-”

“Come to mention him, how _is_ Ash nowadays?”, Damien asked, and Delia meant to answer when one of the other representatives of the record company, a tall and lanky man called Paul that looked like he’d be better suited for the outback than a record company in the city, came walking up to the two of them.

“Oi, Delia, luv, there was a party in 1-11 - dunno who was in there with your guys, but they misbehaved somethin’ _fierce_. Got Mariposa cleanin’ the room now. Dante was considerate ‘nough to leave yeh a card this toime ‘round-”

“Dante?”, Damien said, blinking as the room number seemed familiar. “...Wait… _wait a minute…_ ”

“Ah _gawd_ , them two - if’n they ain’t misbehavin’ with one ‘nother, they find _someone else_ tuh pull intuh it! ...’Dear Delia’ - yeah right, yeh suck-up - ‘we’re off, don’t wait up, have a nice dinner, keep Damien late, deal’s done and we’re off to party’. Damien, pardner-”, she started, but the man cut her off with a deep sigh.

“I don’t know your two guys, but I know my sister and I know the kind of party she means. I daresay I might need to check into another hotel altogether if I’m back before dawn-”

“Ah got a guest room.”, Delia offered bravely, and Damien sighed.

“...Well, I’d hate to turn down your hospitality, Delia, especially considering the alternative is hearing Sam go at it with two guys that actually scream for a living… so, considering I have a favor to repay you for, how does ‘Chez Laurent’ sound for dinner?”

 


End file.
